The Mountain

Revelation comes
and it writes a new story every year.

We cradled each other in our bodies warmth,
stayed up all night, learning
something new, something not allowed,
raw, un-censored, and saying to myself,

'yes, this is revelation.'

a year later, and I'm back in the same woods,
but my ear drops down to heart, and says, "He's the one"
so I freak out and think, "this must be it."

I never told you that, since I never wanted to believe it, but she seemed so convincing and revelation comes in all shapes and sizes.

I danced in the rain then,
whispered to the flowers and then shined my light,
since the lighting and thunder clap is never enough when the mountain is on fire.

Last year, I held your hand, and pulled you out onto the night street, so you could catch your panic breath. You were scared and anxious, like always, and you didn't like the sight of so many people worshiping something you know nothing about.

I led you to a Japanese restaurant, they sat us,
you ordered tea,
nothing else.

we couldn't afford anything,
not even the tea.

I held your hands and you thanked me for my comfort.
I had tears in my eyes, since revelation was happening and it was saying,
"No, you are certainly not the one."

We never returned to the song and prayer, since you always dictated the evening,
and I had no power, no, not then.

So as the clock nears 11pm, and all my tribe is meeting at the mountain soon,
I think to myself,"I must write, there must be a revelation here."

In this room, I sit, I lay and I stare.
The tv scribbles out nonsense and violence, laughter and I eat chocolate and sriracha chips and say that this is my healing.

We text about plans for adventure,
you are in your own bed, and I'm in mine.

Tears now, since I think this is the poignant point:

we must always do what is best for us, and us is the me and the hashem residing within.

I do not crave the external night time learning, since this night is teaching me how to listen to all the inner knowledge inside.
I climb mountains daily, and I witness the crackle of light as it's streaks coat the sky.

We sing loud together,
and you are confident.

I am too,
and this revelation day, I stand strong in my power,
rain may fall, but I will never melt the way I did before,

and we can remember those tent nights fondly, and think, "He knew so much, a true yid."

yes, and more yesses, we still love the one who opened my eyes, but we couldn't be together and no, hiding is no fun.

So today I laughed so much and even in sickness I am glad, since I am the happiest I have ever been and this in truth is Torah at Sinai.

Madly in love with the one who guides me,
showing me every facet of the prism, and I like the color I'm in now,

my friends we will meet again here, and who knows the lessons upon the mount,
but like I said before to your big brown eyes,
freedom comes with struggle, and this too is blessing in all it's forms.